Burnley Express and Advertiser
Wednesday 18 February 1903
Original Poetry
A Winter Night At Roggerham
At Roggerham high, the wind blows loud, The hills are hoary white; The cold earth lies within her shroud, A grim and ghastly sight!
At Roggerham Gate, before the fire We sit, a jolly crew; The merriment grows high, and higher, With jests both old and new.
At Roggerham high, white winter holds His carnival, I ween; The fleecy folk are in the folds, No human form is seen!
At Roggerham Gate, the shepherd old His budget opens wide, And tells the tales so often told, While the listener holds his side!
At Roggerham high, the storm-fiends rave, They batter at the door; But what care we how they behave, Amid the merry splore!
Now hark, and see! the reddening coal Is crackling in the grate: Was never, in winter, a cosier hole Than this at Roggerham Gate!
Abm. Stansfield January 16th 1903
_________________ Mel
Searching for lost relatives? Win the Lottery!
|